“It’s going to be epic.” She rolls her eyes then leans in more and lowers her voice, “I hate that you’re not coming, but Rod is. And we both know he’s going to get drunk and act like an ass.”
“Yeah.” I contemplate that for a moment. “And it’s no longer my problem.” That’s a freeing thought.
“You’ve dodged a real bullet here. Has he spoken to you yet?”
“No. Fifty-two days and counting.” I press my lips together for a second. “My sister told him he’s to speak to me through lawyers only, or she will decapitate his offending organ.” I try not to laugh but it’s impossible.
Simone giggles. “I’ve always said your sister is my kind of girl.”
“She’s insane and the threat is real. He’s taking it to heart. He did actually send me a separation agreement which I had my new team of lawyers amend and send back. He didn’t argue on any of the points, so it was easy to get done.”
“Second smart thing he ever did next to marrying you.” She winks. “So, he didn’t come to the hospital when you were hurt, hasn’t sent flowers or even a card to say sorry for fucking someone else? No Christmas gift or ‘fuck you’ or anything? New Year’s was a no show. And now it’s February and he’s got nothing to say?” Her words are tiny knives stabbing into my soul.
“No,” I manage to get out. “My only satisfaction is knowing he was outed for the affair. He tried so hard to convince me I was nuts when I suspected something.”
“What a jerk. And your birthday was end of January. Didn’t he go away?” She keeps them coming.
“Mexico,” I mutter, still shocked he went with Elaine.
“Piece of garbage. Did you know he was such a coward and a loser?” Simone holds nothing back, which normally I find funny. Because ordinarily it’s someone else’s life we’re discussing as mine has traditionally been far too boring to mock.
“I think I might have and tolerated it because—” I can’t say it.
“Because love is a traitorous bastard and it’s terrifying to start over at a certain age.” She nods, aware of the sting of betrayal. She was in my shoes only two years ago when her wife left her for a much younger woman.
“I’m glad I’m single though. Now.”
“Me too. And I hope you have a happy Valentine’s Day where you get to eat all the chocolates.” She winks.
“Thanks. And I hope you have a happy one as well.” A thought occurs to me. “Shit, it was your birthday last week, wasn’t it? A week after mine.”
“It was and it was great.” She sounds sarcastic. “My parents had a party and got me some white-gold earrings and Mom tried to hook me up with her dentist.”
“Oh, is she hot?” I am relieved to finally be discussing her love life.
“No, he’s a perfectly nice man but—”
“Right.” I chuckle.
“My mom’s lecture after everyone left included the sentence, ‘Isn’t being Jewish hard enough, why do you have to add being a lesbian?’”
“No.” I shake my head gingerly. “No, she didn’t.”
“Oh yes. The sad part is it’s not my worst birthday. Not even close.”
“God, I’m sorry, Simone.”
“Two peas in a pod.” She sighs. “So when you’re free from all this work, let’s get drinks and lament about our lives.”
“Deal.” I get up from my desk and give her a hug.
She hugs back gently. “If Rod makes a huge ass of himself, I’ll record it and save it for when you’re in the mood to laugh at him.”
“Thanks, girl.”
She squeezes and walks out, waving back at me. She’s right, love is a traitorous bastard.
I grab my things and sneak out of the building through my sneaky exit, hoping no one notices me. When I’m halfway home, regretting walking in the cold rain, I get a text from Liz.
Drinks at Public House?
I almost say yes but stop myself. I’m still having headaches and dizzy spells. Keeping my drinking to a minimum is necessary for my brain to heal.
I send her a text back, deflecting. It’s Valentine’s, don’t you guys have plans?
Yeah, we were going to get drinks with you.
No. I text back. If you want to, we can eat at my place. I’ll make you dinner. Make Mom watch the girls and bring James.
She texts a thumbs up and I detour to the market to buy some things to throw together a quick pasta. It’s cold and wet and bleak and I’m drenched in icy rain by the time I arrive home. I am tired of winter.
When they arrive at my place, I have a baked spaghetti in the oven and am just spreading the garlic butter over the potato bread I got.
Liz knocks and I hurry for the door, opening it with a smile as James hurries from the elevator. “Hi.”
The door across the hallway opens, drawing both our stares to a stunning young woman with tousled hair and no makeup left, leaving Sam’s apartment. She beams at us as she makes her way to the elevator.
“Sam’s so gross,” I whisper as I drag them inside and close the door.
“This happens a lot?” Liz gasps as she removes her coat.
“I get the impression he’s one of those people who shies away from real relationships.” I walk back to my Texas toasts.
“Liz said you had the biggest crush on Sam in college,” James teases as Liz struggles to open the bottle of wine she brought for me. “Maybe you could get a little side action. Friends with benefits.”
“I’ve retired my vagina for the rest of my life and will not be seeking the company of men, thank you very much, James. Besides, friends with benefits isn’t my style.”
“I can’t believe he’s like that. He’s almost forty,” Liz adds.
“Wow.” James laughs. “You girls shouldn’t ride poor Sam too hard, and no pun intended.” He gives his wife a stern look. “He is a single guy,” James defends him. Typical James. “And he has the worst heartbreak story I’ve ever heard.”
“What?” Liz and I ask at the same time. “He dated someone?”
“Married her.” James nods. “Right after he graduated from medical school he got married to a nurse from Ontario. They came here for him to finish his residency. After that was over, they wanted to have kids. She went into a private practice so they thought it would work out.”
“He married someone?” Liz shakes her head, as stuck on that detail as I am. “How do I not know this story?” Her eyes dart to mine. She’s one of two people who know the secret I have about Sam and me in college.
“Because I don’t gossip like you two.” James sips his wine and winks as if to say the shot fired wasn’t at me.
“Then what happened?” Liz demands. All humor and fun are gone, replaced by our discomfort.
“He found out he couldn’t have kids. He’s sterile, sadly.”
“Sterile?” I cut him off. A chill runs over my body.
“That’s impossible,” Liz whispers.
“Why?” James asks.
“He’s—so handsome,” Liz says the dumbest thing she has ever said to cover for the truth she nearly let slip.